


4AM

by talonyth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I'm Sorry, M/M, a possibly tipsy akaashi, and a pondering bokuto, tbh mostly bokuto and akaashi giggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2015-01-24
Packaged: 2018-02-05 21:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1833199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talonyth/pseuds/talonyth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A phone call from Akaashi is rare but a phonecall from Akaashi at 4am is probably a dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 4am

Bokuto never gets calls from Akaashi. Okay, never is maybe a little stretched but very rarely. Especially not at nighttime.

When he is woken up by the ringtone of his phone and stares at the screen for seconds flat, he seriously wonders if he fell into a parallel dimension in his sleep - because Akaashi never calls, especially not at night. Or at least that is what Bokuto always thought. 

"Akaashi?!" he says as he picks up the phone eventually. He did want to reply cooler but that involuntarily shocked greeting slips out of his mouth instead. 

He hears loud sounds in the background, people talking and possibly music, but most of everything - and he is in outright stupor - is Akaashi giggling into the speaker. 

"Good evening, Bokuto-san~" he slurs and giggles again. Now for the first time calling him at night, this is another first Bokuto experiences. But it’s not even half bad, he thinks but it remains unspoken.

"Now, that's unusual! What’s up?" he asks instead although he can probably think of a reason why Akaashi called at this very odd hour, with a background of music and people and almost purring into his ear. 

Akaashi cackles again and Bokuto swears he can hear him hum. It sounds fine, he has a nice voice - except he strikes false tones all over because he is probably very very tipsy. 

"Nothing much! I just wanted to call you! And I thought I probably should have invited you along because it’s so boooooring with these guys from college…"

Bokuto manages somehow to suppress a grin and pinches himself. Just in case. It could be a dream for all he knows. It is definitely as absurd as one. But he has never seen Akaashi drunk in the first place so how would he know. It hurts like hell and he decides it's probably not a dream at all. 

"So you admit it’s fun to hang out with me, I knew it! You know drunk people tell the truth at all times!"

It’s not like he wants Akaashi’s attention but he kind of does. Bokuto has always felt as if it was quite one-sided what he felt. Then again, Akaashi has no way of knowing that Bokuto sometimes - but really rarely, he swears - thinks about how he’d like to be more than just a friend to Akaashi. As if that would happen. 

"Then you are probably right, Bokuto-san! You know, I always wanted to tell you something."

Akaashi’s voice suddenly takes a tone deeper, almost normal again and his tongue doesn't sound as heavy anymore. It makes Bokuto think, although it’s really ridiculous because there is no way Akaashi would do that sort of thing, that he pretended to be drunk before, that he actually isn't and just looked for an excuse to call him. But that seems highly unlikely.

"Huh? Yeah, go ahead, tell me, tell me! I love secrets! You’ve never told me any nasty secrets of yours!"

He probably shouldn’t get his hopes up. What for, anyhow? Admittingly, Akaashi and him are still getting along really well and really well means, Akaashi drops by his place every now and then although he says it’s just to check up on Bokuto, just to see if he’s doing alright because his mood swings are unpredictable and they sometimes destroy an entire day.

It’s true, Bokuto thinks, but he might or might not exaggerate his mood a little so Akaashi would come to visit him. Perhaps he likes Akaashi more than he admits. He probably does. Most likely. 

"Bokuto-san, I…"

The suspense could kill a man but of course not Bokuto because of course he does not hope for anything at 4am in the morning from a probably very drunk only-friend. Of course he doesn’t. But maybe he does and maybe it kills him a little after all. 

"I always wondered how you did your hair. No matter what I tried, it would always look the same. I’ve always wanted to know."

There isn’t a single hope shattered and not a single heart broken over this, no way. Bokuto looks out of the window and sees his reflection, his hair flat right now and he wonders if he should tell Akaashi a thing too. As an exchange. For a mediocre secret.

He laughs into the speaker instead and clutches it tightly. 

"You of all people? You were the most popular out of us so why would you worry?"

"I really just wanted to know, it’s a mystery to me. You probably dye it and then?"

"Hairgel. That’s it."

"I tried that but it didn’t work."

Bokuto sighs, both about this situation and his thoughts from before, but is caught off guard when Akaashi continues speaking. He still sounds very sober, and very much like him. 

"Maybe you will have to show me. I’ll come to your place."

There is no way Akaashi would know. Because Bokuto has never shown, not even to himself. And there is absolutely no way Akaashi would feel the same. He’s really just drunk right now and in the morning he will have forgotten and wonder why he will wake up at Bokuto’s place. 

But the words come out of Bokuto’s mouth automatically. 

"I’m coming, just sit tight! I’ll pick you up! It might be dangerous for you to walk around like this, you’re not used to be drunk, are you?!" he says with a laughter while grabbing his clothes. 

"Yeah, I’m not really used to it. Please come and get me."

As Akaashi tells him the name of the bar he was in - very clearly and properly - Bokuto is still thinking. Perhaps he wants to tell Akaashi a secret too. Perhaps he should go and buy some drinks at the convenience store and get drunk too, and tell Akaashi the one and only thing he has never told anyone else ever. Perhaps, at 4am with a possibly actually sober only-friend he has had a crush on since high school in his flat, Bokuto is going to have another first - his first genuine love confession.


	2. Snow White

Birds are screaming outside, the sun shining onto his face so harshly as if to tell him to get the hell out of bed already because it is-- shit, it is almost 1pm when Bokuto glances up to see the bright green numbers of his alarm clock and swearing they burnt into his eyelids when he closes his eyes again. He groans at the prospect of getting up. It is Sunday and he has no plans whatsoever. 

But his head hurts, his brain knocking against his skull as if it wants to jump out and he realizes that maybe he had gotten drunk yesterday. Maybe. Yesterday? What happened? He remembers a phone call at 4am, he remembers picking up Akaashi from the bar he had been in and he... doesn't remember much after that except that they had decided to come back here, to his apartment. 

As he tries to recall yesterday's occurences, his head only starts hurting more. It makes him cringe and curl up in his sheets, pulling the blanket over his head to cover himself from the sun. Knock, knock, knock and it starts getting annoying. He has never really been so drunk he couldn't gather what he did the evening before but now that it has happened, it feels like shit. He exhales and his throat feels dry. Water. 

Reluctantly, he pulls away the blanket and the sun bursts into his face with the intensity of three horses and a train hitting him, making him grumble as he sits up. God, his limbs haven't felt this heavy even after an entire day of practise. Not even after a week. Alcohol is dangerous, and he thinks he probably won't do this sort of thing ever again. His eyes slowly adjust to the brightness in his room and after a session of breathing in and breathing out calmly, he can safely say he at least doesn't feel like throwing up. Good. 

He swings his legs over the edge of the bed that doesn't give in. Well, the weight on the other side of his bed seems to be too heavy, he thinks as he rubs his eyes and sets foot onto the ground but he doesn't stand up. Weight? On the other side of his bed? He turns his head around to see a lump of blankets, curled up together, a single black strand looking out at the end, not even lying on the cushion anymore. Bokuto stares for seconds - although it feels more like an eternity, really - straight at 'the weight'. Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

The birds have stopped screaming their lungs out outside so Bokuto hears a faint and calm breath from the other side of his bed and he tries to remember, he seriously does but it makes his head pound and his vision blurry. Okay, no panic. Since Akaashi came home with him - and of that he is sure - it must definitely be him. Since Akaashi was drunk yesterday which was why he wanted Bokuto to pick him up, it would make sense he hasn't gone home. Ah, okay, yes that explains everything. Except even when Akaashi stays over - which happened only two times until now, counting this time too - they don't sleep in the same bed. 

A chill runs down Bokuto's spine and he means a very literal chill as he realizes he is only wearing boxers. He does that in summer, sleeping like that. But it is mid-October and freezing. If nothing else has given him reason to panic and question his own sanity, this does. His heart beats at a faster rate than his brain does and god damn, why can't he remember? He could wake Akaashi up. He could ask him. But given he is still asleep even though he has always been the type to wake up the earliest in training camp, it must mean he is out too. So he probably has no idea either. 

A shriek almost comes out of Bokuto's throat as Akaashi moves, turning around while still wrapped tightly in his blanket. He turns towards him and there he is. His face isn't covered and he is clearly asleep, soundly even. Oh man. He doesn't want to stare but when does he ever get the chance to look at Akaashi like this? He pulls his legs softly onto the bed again and turns around minding not to be too frantic and wake Akaashi from his slumber. _Oh man._ He looks beautiful. 

Bokuto hasn't always been this aware of his feelings. Actually only after he had graduated from high school back then, he realized that he misses Akaashi a little too much, that he thinks about him a little too often and wants to see him too frequently. He had tried to tell himself it is just because they've been on the same team and he sees all of the other guys all the time too so he simply misses his usual environment but it wasn't like that. More often than not, Bokuto has thought back about his time in high school then and tried to figure out why he was so set on Akaashi. 

It is a crush, a simple one. That's what he told himself. It's been three years ever since, two years ever since Akaashi has graduated himself. Bokuto can't recall how exactly they kept in touch, mostly by him constantly writing to Akaashi how they should meet up and things like that. Now that he looks back on it, he did seem kind of desperate. Lame. But Akaashi never complained. Came over whenever Bokuto asked him to even if he said he didn't have time. Bokuto doesn't know when he started smiling about that but his cheeks start hurting. 

He looks at Akaashi sleeping right there on his bed and Bokuto knows Akaashi doesn't belong here but he wants to indulge himself for just a little bit. Remember how this looks like because he will never get the chance to see it again. Even if he doesn't remember how this came to be but still, he needs to imprint this scene in his mind. Nothing will ever happen. Nothing happened in three years - no, longer even, since high school, hell maybe since the first time he saw Akaashi - and nothing will happen in the future either. Bokuto is aware of that. That's why he _needs_ to remember. 

Skin white as snow, lips red as blood, hair black as ebony. Akaashi would give him the worst look if he were awake and able to hear Bokuto's thoughts. But it is true, Akaashi reminds him of Snow White, he is so beautiful that sometimes Bokuto thinks he is unearthly. Maybe he just jumped out of a book of fairy tales and he doesn't tell anyone his true identity. That would be something. But of course it isn't true. Akaashi is real, as real as anyone could ever be and he is in reach right here and right now - and it is dangerous like this, Bokuto realizes as his fingers touch Akaashi's cheek softly. He is warm, of course he is. He retreats his hand quickly as Akaashi starts moving and grumbling, eyes opening slowly but exhaustedly closing again. Shit, that was close.

It's over, the time to imprint is over and Bokuto remembers the water. He wanted a glass of water. His throat is so dry and his face is so hot. God, no. As he slips off his bed and nearly tumbles over his clothes, harshly remembering he actually remembers nothing at all, Bokuto figures this isn't a crush. It might have been. It used to be. This isn't a crush any longer - this is full-fledged and complete love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow a v short update and also kind of pointless but bokuto has it real bad for akaashi and i'm feeling a bit sorry for him. next chapter will be longer and have more sense......... pROBABLY?


	3. A Physical Law

Bokuto downed three glasses of water but his head still doesn't feel clearer, his heart still hammering against his chest - and it hurts, no jokes - his mind still hazy, too. This isn't simply a hangover, this is the realization that his feelings have overflown and that there is nothing he can do. He could tell Akaashi. Unless he already did, he doesn't remember. He doesn't know anything. What do?

He inhales slowly, filling his lungs up with enough air to last him a century and lets it all out again. No luck, he still doesn't feel calmer. Shit. In the kitchen, there are several cans of the beverages he had drunk but he doesn't remember... did Akaashi drink along with him? What even happened, still? He shudders as he realizes he stands barefoot on cold tiles with nothing but a pair of boxers on. Right, there was this thing. Now he doesn't want to think of something unheard for but for what reason would he be dressed like this? Or, well, undressed like this. Unless... 

“Good morning, Bokuto-san.”

Akaashi stands in the door frame, shirt messy, hair dishevelled, eyes still visibly strained to adjust to being open and there and awake and he looks so good. No, no no. No. Now Bokuto is being unreasonable, he has been able to look at Akaashi with no problems and a huge crush so why does this happen now? Just because he is aware it might be something deeper? Isn't that supposed to happen when you have a crush? Fawning over the other's presence, not getting them out of your mind? 

Without expecting a reply, Akaashi passes by Bokuto and opens the fridge, taking out a bottle of orange juice. Bokuto never has orange juice in his fridge, it's too sour for him. Where did it come from? He does know Akaashi likes to drink orange juice in the mornings but he never specifically has any just for that reason. Akaashi takes a sip from the bottle and leans against the counter next to Bokuto. 

“Are you alright?” 

His voice is so sweet, it sounds sweeter than anything Bokuto has ever heard and what is this forsaken trail of thoughts? Seriously, this sounds like whatever he has had before for Akaashi was not a crush but something like a pre-crush. If something like that exists. If yes, it's messed up as hell that he can't even properly look at Akaashi without fearing his heart beats so loudly the other might hear. He downs the last gulp of water from his glass and puts it into the sink. 

“Just a little drowsy and hungover, I guess. You alright there?” he asks and he prays Akaashi categorizes his behaviour as rest alcohol or maybe the hangover or whatever else. 

“I'm fine, yeah. Still a bit sleepy... staying up until almost 9am might be a fairly bad idea, for the record.”

9am... Did they stay up that long? So Akaashi does remember. Huh. If he would ask that would make it seem rude but Bokuto would like to know. At least it doesn't seem like anything in particular happened between them, Akaashi would act different otherwise. Maybe not even speak to him at all. He is sure Akaashi's glance has some sort of meaning but Bokuto can't grasp it. 

“Ah... yeah, maybe we shouldn't do that again. I'm feeling like you hit me with a frying pan. ...You didn't, did you?”

Akaashi raises an eyebrow. “You don't remember anything, do you?”

Shit. He doesn't sound angry. He doesn't sound dejected either. Actually, Akaashi's voice is absolutely neutral but Bokuto feels his insides clenched and his mind cloudy. No, he doesn't remember jackshit and it starts to become a problem. Before he can speak up, Akaashi takes a few gulps from the orange juice bottle and closes it to put it back into the fridge. 

“Nothing much happened yesterday anymore except for you hitting your head onto the wall when you tried to climb into your bed. So no, I did not hit you with a frying pan but it is possible that might have left some damage,” he says calmly and Bokuto feels relieved yet in a way, he had gotten his hopes up. Ah well. It's better like this. It only hurts a little. He wouldn't want to have done things to Akaashi to displease him, after all. It's good as it is. 

“Ow. ...Hey, how comes you're not feeling off? I mean you were drunk too, weren't you?” Bokuto asks. He remembers thinking during the phone call Akaashi might have pretended. Did he?

“I guess I got lucky,” he replies slowly. Nah. He didn't. Bokuto has never seen Akaashi drunk and as a result also never hungover either. Perhaps his drowsiness is Bokuto's headache. Everyone is different after all. 

“Man, I'm envious. I could do without the headache although it has gotten somewhat better now.” Bokuto grins at Akaashi, only for him to shrug and sigh. 

“Maybe next time we should also get some snacks to go along with the drinks. I heard that helps in the aftermath,” he says as he walks out of the kitchen. His voice is still audible though. “Anyway, I think I should get going. I already imposed myself on you last night so---”

“Imposed? Akaashi, what are you, 80? You're always welcome to stay here and you know that,” Bokuto says, following Akaashi back into the bedroom. He puts on his jeans, belt buckling and Bokuto gulps. Right, what happened? Akaashi mentioned he apparently hit his head on the wall and ever since, Bokuto thinks he feels a bump at the back of his head. But what about the rest of the setting? The fact that they both wear next to nothing, that they woke up in the same bed, that there is orange juice magically popping up in his fridge? Bokuto feels like he has forgotten something important.

“I'd still feel uncomfortable to stay longer when I woke you up at 4am to come and pick me up. It's fine, I am feeling sluggish anyway. I am going home and sleep for a bit longer,” Akaashi mumbles as he fixes his shirt - though still full of wrinkles - and runs his fingers through his hair. Shit. Bokuto exhales and averts his eyes for the time being. And oddly, feels the tips of his fingers tingling as if they remember the sensation of Akaashi's hair in his hands. Ridiculous. His own body starts fantasizing. 

“Oh, come on! Don't be like that, I seriously didn't mind. Don't say it like you are a bother to me,” Bokuto scolds and Akaashi's eyes glance up for a second. Was that a smile? A tiny, invisible smile, corners of Akaashi's mouth lifting at his words? Bokuto smirks. “Aren't you going to stay?”

Akaashi shakes his head. “I'm tired. You're hungover. We'd just be sleeping through the day. It's better if I leave.”

That sort of thing, that level-headedness, that is Akaashi. He is impressive, always able to stay calm and composed, always able to focus. Bokuto has found it amazing in high school and still does. It saved his ass more than just once - not solely in regard to volleyball. 

He hums and crosses his arms, watching Akaashi pull his socks over his feet. Nothing much happened yesterday, he said. Bokuto still doesn't remember. Maybe he was too drunk to pull a shirt on to sleep in but why undress in the first place? Akaashi could have just fallen asleep on him and rolled away but why was he only in a shirt then? He hasn't done anything to Akaashi, right? He would have told him... right?

Akaashi fixes his clothes a last time but oh, his hair. It looks oddly chaotic. His curls always go everywhere but this bedhead is particularly terrible. Bokuto takes a step closer and without realizing, his fingers get lost in Akaashi's hair. Soft, as soft as he imagined but what shocks him more is how familiar it feels like. His hand is pushed away gently but with force. 

“Please don't,” Akaashi says but he doesn't look at him. Bokuto lets his hand sink and bites his tongue. Nothing much happened anymore, he said. But really?

“Ah, my bad, I---”

“It's the hairgel.”

Bokuto stares at Akaashi as if he had spoken another language. But it dawns on him. Slowly. The reason why Akaashi called yesterday was because he asked about his hair, ultimately deciding Bokuto would need to show him how to do it. Oh. _Oh._ Of course.

“Did it work?” he asks and Akaashi shakes his head. 

“No, it didn't. My hair doesn't seem to be made for that sort of hairstyle. ...I'd rather not remember I asked you to do this, to be quite frank.”

A snort escapes Bokuto's lips before he bursts out in laughter. Akaashi is pouting. Or at least that is what it looks like. It's cute. He's cute. Akaashi is cute, he is lovely, he is wonderful. He is so much that Bokuto doesn't think he has words for him. Even if these are feelings that might never be reciprocated, he doesn't regret bearing them for Akaashi of all people. In fact, Bokuto is quite sure if he were given the choice to love someone, he would always choose Akaashi. No matter how unrequited or hopeless. 

“Don't worry! I'm not going to tell anyone although I am very tempted. Too bad I didn't take a photo! ...Or did I?”

Akaashi looks at him quietly but obviously displeased until he stops laughing. “Thankfully you didn't. It would have looked bad anyway.”

“Oh, I don't think so. It might be physically impossible for you to look bad,” Bokuto says and he doesn't know why he suddenly feels calm about the situation. It was panic at first, panic over a love that has changed, warped into something so much bigger, so much more painful. In theory. But his heart feels too full to comprehend. His love is true and it is real. Even if he doesn't voice it. His heart is blind.

For a second, Akaashi looks at him with confusion but it is gone so fast it might have been a hallucination. He walks past Bokuto who makes way for Akaashi, accompanying him to the door. 

“I feel flattered but you don't even remember yesterday so I don't think your judgement is valid,” Akaashi retorts. He grabs his scarf, wrapping it around his neck loosely and pulling his jacket over. 

“I don't need to remember in order to tell you that sort of thing, you know. It's like a physical law. Like gravity. That's a fact and it will always be like that and remain like that even if I don't remember or haven't seen.”

Akaashi remains silent, the zip of his jacket being the only audible sound. He doesn't face Bokuto who swears he spots a pair of red ears. It would be a lie to say he doesn't hope Akaashi will react and like it and will want to hear more of it because there is so much more where this is coming from. Bokuto would like to tell him how he feels, one day. But he knows it would be self-indulgence. He doesn't want to lose a friend over emotions that are fleeting. Keeping close like this is fine enough. It has worked before, too. 

“If you say that, Bokuto-san.” He slips into his shoes and grabs his bag lying next to the. They sure must have hurried for him to just leave it there like that. “I'll be taking my leave, then.”

“Yeah, be careful! And rest well, don't go and drink too much again!” Bokuto exclaims followed by a chuckle. Oh, if only he would. 

“You too. Make sure to drink a lot and maybe get something pickled from the convenience store to eat. I heard that helps an upset stomach, in case you start feeling sick.”

Bokuto's smile doesn't cease. “Will do. Take care, Akaashi.”

Akaashi nods and opens the door, lifting his hand slightly as a goodbye, passing through it and closing it behind him. Bokuto hears his footsteps outside and he forgets to breathe until they are completely gone. Love is a scary thing. It hits you like a truck and leaves you vulnerable on the street. But at the same time, it feels a little like floating, far far up in the sky. 

Goosebumps run down his body as he stands in front of his door and only now he remembers he actually still hasn't gotten dressed. He shuffles back to his room and lazily pulls out a shirt and some sweatpants out of his closet to wear, falling flat on his face onto the bed as he is done. He can't decide whether he is exhausted from no sleep or if this is still the hangover kicking or if it is both combined with the undying beat of his heart. Well, it would be bad if it died out because that would mean his death but it starts getting stressful. And tiring. 

In times like these he is grateful for having chosen to get a double bed. Not because he is frequently visited by anyone as suggested by Komi when he first came to his flat. More because Bokuto hates sleeping in tight spaces. Although this night, it had the advantage that he didn't sleep too close to Akaashi. Thankfully. 

His face is pressed into the cushion Akaashi slept on and unsurprisingly, it smells like him. And hairgel. Seriously. Bokuto snickers into the pillow as he tries to remember how Akaashi might have looked like. It must have been a blast. And Bokuto does recall a little, sitting opposite of Akaashi, fumbling with his hair slipping like silk through his fingers. It is almost a shame to slap hairgel on it and destroy it but Akaashi must have asked for him to go on. He remembers giggling but doesn't know whether it was him or Akaashi and he remembers leaning in a little too far and touching foreheads and---

Bokuto opens his eyes. No. Akaashi said nothing else has happened. Akaashi doesn't lie. Why should he? He didn't seem upset. He didn't seem angry or disgusted. He seemed like always, like Keiji Akaashi, the guy he has had a crush on since high school. 

But Bokuto is sure it is a memory and not a fantasy; two giggles, his and Akaashi's together, and lips that tasted a lot like orange juice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I CAN'T BELIEVE I UPDATE THIS TWICE ON THE SAME DAY hey what don't look at me i just don't want to study


	4. Rabbits Die Of Heartbreak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for this worthless update, i am so so so sorry. this is the best i can press out of my writer's block and i hope you can forgive me, i promise the next chapter will be better. for the time being, i hope you can enjoy this just a little.

“See, this is how it goes,” Bokuto purrs, giggles mixed into his speech involuntarily. He doesn’t drink often - actually never, really, except when he is invited out. The bitter taste of alcohol feels disgusting on his tongue and he’s been laughed at about this more than just once. ‘You just have a childish taste, Bokuto,’ he’s been told by his college classmates. It’s not necessarily untrue as Bokuto enjoys sweet things more than bitter or sour ones, not to speak of spicy food. His absolute archnemesis. He doesn’t cry often and if he does, he doesn’t admit it but spicy food never fails to make him tear up.

It is just that tonight, tonight has been something entirely different. Akaashi doesn’t call him in the middle of the night, less even when he is tipsy as well, doesn’t ask Bokuto to pick him up nor _style his hair_. So Bokuto deems this night to simply have been weird from the get-go, so much that he did drink quite a bit and can’t think quite as clearly anymore as he tousles Akaashi’s hair who doesn’t show any resistance.

In fact, he is snickering too. And while Bokuto is too buzzed to compute anything else, he knows it is the most pleasant sound he has ever heard.

“You make it sound so easy, Bokuto-san. But I tried this at home and it didn’t work at all,” Akaashi hums and Bokuto thinks he imagines the other leaning into the touch. “Maybe my hair is too soft…”

“Damn right it is. Super soft. Like, if I didn’t know it better, your hair might as well be silk. Like, honestly. Damn.” He usually speaks a little more coherently, or so Bokuto thinks. What if this is his actual speech pattern? What if the alcohol makes him more aware of what he is like? His filter is completely broken and while he knows that, he can’t stop his tongue. Not to say that it does not help at all that Akaashi’s hair is _absolutely_ as soft as silk.

Giggles spill over Akaashi’s lips as if, akin to Bokuto, some sort of switch has simply been shut off that usually controls this sort of thing, Bokuto is unable to explain this phenomenon differently. He would usually say something like ‘No way, Bokuto-san’ as he fends off any sort of skinship and stay composed and-- how does Akaashi do that anyway? A mystery that has never been resolved for Bokuto.

Akaashi isn’t as expressionless as people make him out to be. While he didn’t speak much, it was simply because no one talked to him in the first place back when he joined their high school team the first time. Bokuto wouldn’t say he was the on keeping an eye on Akaashi _but he was_. And found out Akaashi liked sour sorts of juice and enjoyed listening to all sorts of music but preferred rock over hip hop and pop over classical music. That he read a lot in his free time, though mostly sci-fi stuff. ‘Not because I believe in it,’ he said back then, ‘but it’s interesting to imagine there could be something else out there except for us.’ Bokuto didn’t really understand because he never gave it any thought but all of this he found out in the very first week he met Akaashi. In the next, he saw him smile the first time he had been praised, the week after he saw Akaashi fiercely trying to get better and staying longer with Bokuto together. And it kept happening, week after week. Giving Bokuto the chance to find out that Akaashi’s favourite colour was red, that he didn’t like having plants in his room because they kept dying as soon as he had them for more than a day, that he was frustrated he wasn’t physically stronger but proud that he at least managed to work out enough to have a better stamina than before.

By the time the year had been over, Bokuto knew enough about Akaashi to be able to read from his face what he felt like. And it made him feel mighty.

“Bokuto-san, are you okay? You’ve been so quiet.” Bokuto snaps out of his thoughts, woken up by Akaashi’s voice and--- holy shit, he is so close. So close that the tips of their noses are touching. So close that he can feel Akaashi blink and breathe and the alcohol has definitely made him more aware, Bokuto is sure of that. He lowers his gaze to avoid getting lost in Akaashi’s eyes although he thinks it might already be too late. He wonders if Akaashi is a mage. Maybe. With love spells and the like. It would suit him. Bokuto can’t find another explanation for his stupor.

“I’ve just… been thinking.” He doesn’t think his voice has ever been more monotonous but damn, Akaashi’s lips are surely distracting. Even more distracting than his eyes. Damn.

“About what?” God, they move so smoothly. Who is he trying to kid anyway, they probably are smooth. Absolutely. No question. He wants to try and see for himself. It won’t hurt once. How could it hurt when his lips are smooth as this. As always, Bokuto’s logic works the best even when drunk. His brain is his saviour.

“About you.” Bokuto can taste the orange juice on Akaashi’s lips even though they are barely touching but he forgets about the sour taste quickly when he realizes he was right. Of course they are soft. Although he doesn’t remember moving. Did Akaashi… move in closer?

“But I am right here.”

And then Bokuto opens his eyes and it is dark in his room. It was a dream. Except it wasn’t. He knows it wasn’t. It felt far too real and far too much like what he was missing from days ago when Akaashi stayed over. Far too much like all of that had happened to him before, his brain just couldn’t place it back together while awake. His heart hammers against his chest as he sits up and he runs his fingers through his hair staring at the clock burning its digits into his eyes relentlessly. It’s 6pm. Great, his sleeping schedule is absolutely fucked.

The whole incident of sudden amnesia due to alcoholic beverages was about a week ago and ever since Bokuto has heard nothing of Akaashi. No message, no call, no visit. Given Bokuto didn’t dare to message him because he figured Akaashi must have remembered what has happened. And now he’s avoiding Bokuto. Naturally. Shit. How could it possibly have been that nothing happened when Bokuto woke up half-naked next to Akaashi in the same bed? He should have known better than that. Albeit he doesn’t remember that part of the evening at all, probably because he hit his head on the wall accidentally.

He decides it’s no use moping after an entire week and his stomach growls in agreement. Food, yeah. That sounds like a great idea for a start. With a full tummy, he’ll be able to think about maybe calling Akaashi and seeing how he reacts. Once he looks into his fridge, he is less inclined to solve the problem because not even the first step for this day works out. The fridge is emptier than his heart at the prospect of losing Akaashi. A bento box from the convenience store downstairs it will be, then and he prays the will at least have the beef bento box still stocked as he slips into his jacket and his shoes. It might be 6pm but it’s never too late for a bento box, right?

He walks into the store minutes later and is greeted by a mild ‘Good evening’ from the part-timer working there on weekends. A big guy called Azumane looking rather scary but Bokuto remembered him from high school times. That guy used to play for Karasuno and was at about as dangerous as a fluffy bunny in a field of flowers. Started working here a few months ago to be able to pay his rent and college expenses though still scared of the big city and occasionally getting lost in it. A thoroughly gentle soul, in fact.

Bokuto greets back and starts looking through the shelves for something he could eat. The boxes are all sold out. Not much of a surprise. He doesn’t feel like instant ramen and he isn’t entirely sure whether he is up to cook something. Too hungry for that type of effort.

“Can I help you?”

Azumane is closer than Bokuto anticipated him to be, standing right next to him and stocking up the empty shelves. Apparently, Bokuto ended up in the section where the drinks are. For whatever reason. Maybe he is more of an amnesiac than expected. Scary.

“Ah, no. I mean, I don’t know, can you? I’m hungry but I don’t know what to eat. I’m too lazy to make myself something good but I don’t want to eat instant stuff either. But I gotta have some energy because there is a problem I gotta solve. It’s a pinch I am in, Azumane. A pinch!”

Not what he wanted to say but perhaps it wouldn’t be bad talking to someone about it. Not necessarily that this is about him crushing on his best friend ever since high school but he will sort it out. Somehow. Azumane looks like the gullible type.

“A problem? Ah, has something gone wrong between you and Akaashi?”

“Yes! A whole l--- wait, why do you know?” Bokuto takes two steps back and protectively raises his arms. “Are you… a psychic? L-Listen, stay away from my brain, okay?”

Azumane looks distraught. “W-What? No, I’m not psychic, I just… haven’t seen him around after last week where you seemed very… well… you know…”

“Drunk?”

“That too… but I mean, you both seemed very… well, close.”

Azumane blushes slightly and Bokuto feels like relaxing. What is this about again? Why is he the one feeling embarrassed? Though as much as Bokuto tries, he can’t recall having been here with Akaashi last week. Alone, yes, shortly before he went to pick him up but not with Akaashi together. Or… did he forget?

“What do you mean?”

Azumane fidgets, squeezing the bottle of apple juice he holds in hands a little tighter. “You don’t remember?”

Bokuto shakes his head and shrugs. “I remember about a quarter of that night, to be honest. And even of that quarter I am not entirely sure what is actually real and what just a delusion. I’ve never gotten drunk before.”

“Oh. Yes. Right. Um, would it help you to know what has happened here?”

“It wouldn’t be bad to know and I know I can trust you. So what did you see?” At least something. Any information would be good so he knows what Akaashi will hit him with once he starts apologizing.

“Mmmm,” Azumane ponders and crosses his arms, “It was about 7am. You both came in here in a very good mood. You were clinging to Akaashi and looked rather… happy. So did Akaashi. That’s why I was asking before. You both were looking very… intimate. Somehow. At first I thought it was because you both were tipsy so I asked you if I should help you back home but Akaashi declined and I’m pretty sure he didn’t drink anything at all. You got something to eat and some orange juice, I think and then you left. When Akaashi was paying though you… well,” he seems flustered but continues. A far too pure soul, definitely. “You k-kissed his face all over.”

Now Bokuto isn’t one to be easily embarrassed and he bets it is because Azumane is at about as red as a freshly harvested tomato that he feels the heat shooting up his face and covering it entirely. “D-Did… W-What about Akaashi? I mean, how did he react?”

Azumane’s face goes softer as he speaks up. “He… smiled. And he giggled. I don’t think I’ve seen him like that before. Then again, I only see him on weekends when he comes to visit you but… for a second, I considered he might be drunk after all but he was very coherent and he seemed clear. I’m pretty sure he was genuinely happy.”

Unintentionally, Bokuto takes a step towards Azumane and grabs his collar, making him squeak and tense up. “Are you sure of that!? Azumane!”

“Y-Yes, I am! Please let go of me!”

“Whoa,” Bokuto loosens his grip on the other’s shirt and smooths over it with his hands, “My bad, I’m sorry. But, are you really sure? Like, you are honest with me, aren’t you?”

Azumane breathes in deeply and nods, his body still shaking lightly. “I only told you what I remember…”

He doesn’t have any reason to lie to him. But that would mean Akaashi didn’t drink at all that night. Or he already sobered up by that time. Then what? Why did Akaashi let him cling to him and kiss him and… things like that? What happened afterwards? Akaashi could have just decided to let Bokuto enjoy himself but wouldn’t that sort of thing make him uncomfortable? Then Azumane said he didn’t look unhappy about it. That’s good, right? Then why doesn’t he call nor message him at all? If he isn’t angry? Then what is it? Is it because Bokuto doesn’t take the initiative? Is it because something else happened? In the morning Akaashi didn’t seem upset. In fact, he seemed entirely neutral. And he said nothing happened but how is this sort of thing nothing?

“I think I’m going to die, Azumane,” he says. Not even dramatically. He might die from confusion.

“W-What? M-Maybe you should go and get something to eat quickly then?”

“That’s a brilliant idea!” Bokuto grabs Azumane’s shoulders and once more the other tenses up as if he were a scared deerling looking into the headlights of a car. “Food will help me! Food always helps! You are a genius, Azumane!”

“...Isn’t that the reason you came here in the first place?” is what Azumane replies but Bokuto is already out of his radius and doesn’t hear it any longer.

Once he comes back home, he kicks two bags full of ingredients in the corner of his small kitchen and rolls up his sleeves. Food sounds great. Too much food sounds especially great as he slips his hand into his pocket and gets out his phone, dialling Akaashi’s number. He ignores his heart hammering again, like a drumroll against his chest. He might not pick up at all. What will he---

“Ah, Bokuto-san. Hello.”

“Akaashi! Long time no hear! You’ve been busy, right? How about you come over, I made a little too much food for myself. I thought you might want some of my extra special yakisoba.”

He can hear Akaashi breathe and waits patiently for a reply. Or not so patiently because the silence drives him mad. Calm down, Koutaro. It will be fine. “You still with me, Akaashi?”

“Yes, I am here.”

“So what do you say? Wanna come over or are you too busy?”

Akaashi has never declined his offers before. Even when he said he had no time. He still came over eventually. He will do the same now, right? Bokuto squeezes his phone.

“I… don’t think I can make it today. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” It slips out of Bokuto’s throat. He will drop by later anyway. Probably. And say something like ‘Well, I finished earlier’. “No, that’s alright! Make sure you eat enough, though. Don’t overdo it!”

“I will. You take care, too.”

He hangs up and Bokuto is left staring at the screen of his phone. Their conversation hasn’t even been 3 minutes long. He hasn’t been able to tell what Akaashi was thinking at all. He hasn’t been able to ask him, either. Ask him if he has done something wrong, if he has done something to upset him. Forced him to do something he didn’t want to. From all he remembers and has heard, Akaashi sounded like he enjoyed himself. Could Azumane have been wrong about him? Could it be Akaashi had forced himself to smile? Crap.

The food is done half an hour later, he eats his share of it and leaves half of it in the frying pan. It stays untouched. Bokuto decides to have it for breakfast the morning after before it goes bad like the last evening he spent alone, waiting for Akaashi to come.


	5. 4am reloaded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god can you believe this, i fucked up so badly last time that i deleted the chapter and decided to re-write. big sorry to those who have already read the previous version. the first part with bokuroo is still the same but i changed the entire bokuaka part so in case you have already read the previous ending: forget about it and take a re-start with me at this. 
> 
> thank you v much for understanding and i hope you enjoy it (much more this time!!)

Bokuto has had many ups and downs in his life. Mainly ups but he could come up randomly with ridiculous downs he has had for no good reason in hindsight. Like the time the yakisoba bread was sold out in the cafeteria back in high school and he sulked the entire day, even throughout practise. Or the time when he was younger and his favourite shirt had been in the laundry so he couldn’t wear it to show off to the others even though they had already seen it before but on that day, he really wanted to wear it. The many, many times he had been down because of something related to volleyball that wasn’t even worth mentioning. Like being blocked by Kuroo multiple times in their first training match against each other in their first year or not getting one of ten tosses directed to him - simply because he really wanted that one toss and not the others.

His reasons for getting upset have often been stupid, Bokuto figures and he wonders how people were willing to put up with him on certain occasions. He isn’t sure he would have done the same for himself as a friend. Most likely not. 

And then there were cases like now. Cases in which Kuroo is sprawled on Bokuto’s sofa and shows him one vine after the other, one more incredible than the last, always with the notion of ‘Maybe we should try this someday.’ In which he has done this every single day ever since he called Bokuto and heard the slightest bit of a heavy heart in his best friend’s voice. In which he kept bringing weird sweets from the shop he’s working as a part-timer at just for Bokuto to try and grimace because what sort of sweets are sour in the first place? But Kuroo laughed at him and ever since Bokuto isn’t quite as certain about the reason for Kuroo’s visits anymore. Maybe it is more self-entertainment than solace but either way, Bokuto appreciates the company. 

Being alone is unexpectedly hard for him even though he has been living on his own for three years. It has never bothered him much to come home to an empty flat after a day full of action. Never bothered him to spend days alone watching TV or playing video games and failing at them. Never bothered him to curl up in his bed and fall asleep, mostly because he blacks out almost instantly once his head hits a pillow. But now it’s hard, a lot harder than it used to be a week ago. As if a semi-heartbreak that isn’t even confirmed yet changes an entire life. 

Well, apparently it does and it feels like shit, he decides. Bokuto never hated anything more than his own down phases. He has become better at handling them on his own but they still suck. Every single time. And while they usually pass fast - mostly as fast as they also come - this one is particularly tenacious. Even though Bokuto knows this is his own fault. He doesn’t remember but he must have done something wrong for Akaashi to avoid him as if he were the plague. For two weeks now. 

Their only exchange in two weeks had been a call of not even 3 minutes. His heart hurts thinking about it but he feels like he has gotten too used to this pain by now. Isn’t it too quick to adjust with this? Too quick to deem everything as over? He hasn’t even tried contacting him again like a coward he doesn’t usually consider himself to be. 

“Like we should make that fast handclap thing those two guys were doing as our standard greeting,” Kuroo says, staring at the screen of his phone still with his legs hanging from the armrest of the sofa. After trying it out, Bokuto found out a while ago that this position is indeed quite comfortable despite it not looking that way. “I’m pretty sure we could pull that off even faster and do some mad backflips if we’re at it.”

“And end it all on a handstand.” Bokuto leans against the headrest and snickers. Shit, that would actually be a great idea once he feels a bit better. He always wanted to have a cool handshake with million claps and fist bumps and handstands and backflips. Nothing else is cooler than that.  
“So you can use me as a mop again? Last time, my hair was full of dust bunnies,” Kuroo grumbles, dismay visible on his face. 

Bokuto snorts and nods. “That was the best idea I had along with the mint pizza we made for Kenma’s birthday.”

“That was! Absolutely disgusting! I loved it!”

Kuroo’s laughter fills the entire room and brightens Bokuto’s mood instantly. No matter what has ever happened, Kuroo always found a way or another to make him smile like an idiot - whether those ways were good or mint pizza bad. Which is very bad. Extremely bad but entertaining. Frankly, Kuroo’s ways were mostly latter. Mostly mint pizza and chocolate filled with mustard which was a blast when they met Sawamura again in college. A friendly welcoming gift from veteran citizens of Tokyo, they said and Sawamura looked so happy about that chocolate that Bokuto almost felt bad when he spat it out. Mostly amused but also a little sad. 

“Maybe you should make yourself some mint pizza. It’ll burn the heartache away. In fact, I think it will literally burn your heart away so maybe take care how many mints you use,” Kuroo suggests suddenly, a grin stretching over his face though there is something else but amusement mixed in his expression. 

“It doesn’t matter, it won’t hurt as much as this right now either way.” 

Bokuto always thought he was sort of a class clown. Always the one to cheer up everyone else and be the moodmaker. But he seems to be great at tearing down the mood just as fast as he sees Kuroo’s grin sink and so does his heart along with it. The silence is so heavy that it makes Bokuto feel sick and he is about to snort and make a comment about how incredibly dramatic he is but Kuroo breaks it first. 

“Isn’t this right now just self-pity? You don’t even know what has happened but you assume everything to be over. I’ve been trying to distract you because I know that you’ll avoid the topic if I talk about it but man. Honestly. You wallow in self-pity like a pig in fresh mud. I’m not saying you love it but you kinda do.”

“What the heck, Kuroo. Are you telling me I like being in this state? Because I fucking don’t.” He knows that Kuroo is right. It’s uncomfortable being left out in the open like this. 

“Well, I fucking don’t like you like this either but do you see me complaining? I’m trying my best here but let me tell you what else I am good at except for being a friend and Mario Kart. I’m really damn good at giving advice and my advice for you is to stop being a fucking wimp. You know where Akaashi lives, stomp his door in and explain yourself. And pay the damn door afterwards, don’t forget your manners.”

“You suck at Mario Kart.” Bokuto knows that this is acting out of spite but is it so bad not wanting to talk about a possible heartbreak? Possible is probably the word Kuroo wanted to emphasize. It’s not over yet. With Akaashi and with his life. Bokuto knows that but---

“No, you do. At least I don’t wind up last because I throw my banana up front _when no one is in front of me._ ”

Rude. This is just plain rude, reopening old wounds like this.

“You come to _my_ house, you use _my_ internet and _my_ favourite bear slippers and you insult _my Mario Kart skills_? Get out the damn door, you traitor, I don’t want to see your face anymore,” Bokuto utters, voice alternating between hysterically high-pitched and dramatically low-pitched mixed with breathy words at the end. Not to forget the wild gesturing to the door as he turns his face away from Kuroo covering it with his hand. 

Who, of course, as the great friend he is, plays along by standing up and gasping loudly. “I can’t believe you said the t-word to me. _To me_ , the kindest and most loyal person you will ever get to know.”

Kuroo stomps towards the door with extra force and jerks around a last time before rushing outside. “You will regret this, let me tell you! R-E-G-R-E-T!”

And with that, the door closes behind Kuroo and it is like a storm calming down. The silence comes back but not for long. Footsteps approach the door again and Bokuto stands up, walking towards the door and putting his hand on the doorknob. Knock knock knock from the other side and he opens it to have a pair of bear slippers shoved into his hands and a hand stretched out towards him. Wordlessly, he pushes Kuroo’s boots into his hands and as he slips into them, he sighs. 

“Honestly though, you should at least clear things up. Apologize if you feel the need to but don’t let this sort of thing break the relationship you had to Akaashi in the first place. I don’t think this would do you nor him any good.”

As much as Kuroo is a jackass, as much he is a really great friend. He does suck at Mario Kart but he is definitely excellent at being a friend. Very likely one of the best persons Bokuto ever had the pleasure to know. 

He leans against the doorframe, watching Kuroo tying the laces of his boots and crosses his arms. It is freezing outside, sending shivers down Bokuto’s back. “I don’t think I have been afraid in a long time.”

Kuroo straightens his back and buries his hands in pockets. “Fear comes from the unknown, mostly. Unless you clear this up, you will keep being afraid. Well, whatever you do, I’ll make a mint pizza and bring it along tomorrow.” With a smirk, Kuroo turns away and leaves Bokuto standing in the doorframe. Mint pizza. Gross. 

Not much later, after having dinner and watching some soap operas that were so bad they were actually rather enjoyable, he stares at his phone and types in a message. At least ten times. After the 15th message in his drafts, he gives up. Maybe a call would be good. Better, he could hear Akaashi’s voice then, and his reaction. Or he could do it Kuroo-style and kick in his door. But he doesn’t feel like going out in the cold at this time of the night so he decides sleep would be the best option. He can still resolve everything tomorrow, energized and fully rested. 

Or so he thinks. 

A sound wakes him up in the middle of a night and on instinct he grabs his phone angrily and stares at the screen. His phone is ringing. At 4am as the digits of his clock try to burn into his eyes once more. He picks up without checking who it is.

“Yeah?”

For a second, the caller stays quiet and Bokuto is inclined to hang up again, thinking it might be one of Kuroo’s dumb pranks but then someone speaks up. 

“Bokuto-san?”

 _Akaashi._ This isn’t a dream, is it? He clutches the phone with one hand and pinches his arm with the other. ...It’s definitely not a dream and this will definitely leave a bruise, Bokuto figures as he inhales sharply. 

“Hey, what’s up?” he replies, half wincing as he rubs his arm. Shit, this hurts pretty badly. He is stronger than he thought he’d be. Perhaps part of it is him being nervous because for what other reason would Akaashi call in the middle of the night if he doesn’t have something important to say? Something that will make or break their relationship. _Shit, this hurts really really badly._

The silence is back again and Bokuto tries to tell where Akaashi could be but it is dead quiet at the other end of the line except for Akaashi’s breath trembling slightly. Is he outside in the cold? Why…? 

“I… am sorry, I shouldn’t have called at this time of the night. I don’t even have a reason… I shouldn’t have---”

“It’s fine, it’s alright! Don’t sweat it!” Bokuto interrupts and bites his tongue. Perhaps he should have let Akaashi talk but he is sure the other would have just hung up on him instead. He doesn’t want this to end. Who knows when he will get the chance to talk to Akaashi again at this rate? Maybe trying to calm him down would be a step but Bokuto has no idea how to soothe others. It’s the opposite of what he usually does. He takes a deep breath and decides to simply say whatever comes to his mind. Until he has a bulletproof plan, that is. “You don’t need a reason to talk to me. If you want to, just do it.”

“I… really shouldn’t have called,” Akaashi retorts immediately and Bokuto’s heart stops for a beat. Or maybe two. “I’m sorry, Bokuto-san.” 

Bokuto feels like Akaashi definitely tries to avoid him even if he was the first to call. He doesn’t think he has ever heard Akaashi regretting something like this. There is a faint rustling and Bokuto’s panic level rises so high it crashes through the roof. It might touch the stars soon so he blabbers away. Anything to keep Akaashi from hanging up. “No, don’t hang up! I mean, don’t apologize. I mean, don’t do either of those, okay? ...I’m actually glad to hear your voice,” he says with a grin on his face and his chest feels a little lighter now, “It’s been a while. Only a week since the last time but that doesn’t count.”

“...Yeah.”

The silence feels heavy and Bokuto tries to get himself together. He finally has the chance to talk to Akaashi, to explain himself, to apologize but no words come out of his throat. No matter how hard he tries, it’s as if his voice is sealed. He doesn’t remember ever having been this much of a coward. Pathetic. This isn’t the sort of word he uses to describe himself in every other situation than now. Shit.

“So, you are outside, right? Have you been partying again, Akaashi?” He tries to sound like he is teasing him but Akaashi is probably too smart for this. Just keep up the conversation. As long as Akaashi is still there. The rustling is back and he hears Akaashi breathing out. It’s arctic outside, how long will it take him to get home? The trains aren’t operating at this hour either. Is he waiting at the train station? Just… where is he?

“I’ve been over at a classmate’s house, yeah. We were there with some other guys to study for finals.”

“Oh, I see! Well, you are as diligent as always, Akaashi! As expected, though. I haven’t even started thinking about my finals yet. Guess I’ll crash over at Kuroo’s in panic once it’s getting critical,” and this painfully reminds him of last year’s finals and the thesis he crafted in one night and barely passed. He’s never been a very attentive student, not in high school and most definitely not in college. His grades usually depend on his mood on the respective exam weeks and it is usually good enough for him to get a good grade. And then there are the 30 points days. Those are ruthless.

“Don’t slack off too much. Studying is important. ...Though honestly, I could have passed on the session today. I don’t think I remember anything of what we have talked about today very well,” Akaashi says and Bokuto finds it hard to believe although he does sound different. Sort of down. 

“Ah, we all have days like these. You can always revise things later on. It’s funny though, I remember you said you could study on your own better when we were still in high school so I’m surprised you went to study with others today. I like studying in a group. It’s funnier and not as lonely and I hate feeling lonely.” Bokuto doesn’t mind spending time on his own but he definitely prefers company over silence. 

There is a long pause before Akaashi replies and Bokuto can feel the other fidget on the end of the line. “...Bokuto-san… I…” He can hear Akaashi breathing in sharply. “...May I ask something bold of you?”

Bold? Akaashi? If anything he was usually too restrained as if he was a bother. Which he has never once been to Bokuto but no matter how often he told Akaashi, he would still always act like that. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

“...I know I have woken you up already at a very odd time and it’s very cold outside but… would you pick me up from here? I can understand if you---”

“Of course! Stay right where you are, I will be right there!” Bokuto blurted out the words faster than his mind processed but he couldn’t be prouder of himself. Akaashi has asked him out. He doesn’t avoid him after all. And now, Bokuto has the chance to clear things up. Apologize to him face to face without kicking his door in and paying it. 

“But you don’t have to if---”

“Akaashi, please, for the love of volleyball, please just let me do this for you, alright? Tell me where you are and I will come as fast as I can.”

Pause again but not for long, followed by a sigh though it sounds more relieved than anything else. Akaashi continues telling him where he thinks he is and Bokuto is surprised to hear he is actually rather close to his flat. Akaashi should know the way from there to him, they always pass by it from the train station but Bokuto doesn’t bother thinking about it. He slips into his clothes as fast as he can, hanging up and staring at the screen of his phone. This is like two weeks ago. And he can’t fuck up again, he knows that. This time, he will definitely do it right and remember everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mint pizza is a reference to gaki no tsukai's endou who had the brilliant idea of making pizza with mints on it. according to the other gaki no tsukai members, it smells like a bomb of mint and tastes absolutely disgusting. perfect. 
> 
> other than this, the next chapter will be the last (this time for real) and thank you for reading the thing again even though i hecked up so badly///


	6. 5am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DOUBLE UPDATE, LOSERS. mainly because this was supposed to be in the last chapter but then i split it because it was too long rip alright this is a far better ending imo and i hope you enjoy reading it! thanks everyone for your support throughout the story and i am so super glad about all the nice comments i got for this, you're all AMAZING! 
> 
> and now, have fun!!

The temperatures make Bokuto think he isn’t in Tokyo anymore but that his door had been the portal straight to the South Pole and he ended up there except the snow and ice is missing but otherwise, the similarities are stunning. Especially the damn cold. Holy shit. 

Thankfully it barely takes Bokuto 15 minutes to get to his destination. He sees Akaashi standing there from afar, right under the dim light of a light post, rubbing his palms in an attempt to warm them up. Bokuto forgets about the cold entirely in that instant, realizing why he is here. And what he should do. But how? If he simply apologizes, it would seem empty because Akaashi knows he barely remembers anything. If he doesn’t say anything about it, the situation will stay awkward as it is now and neither him nor Akaashi seem to enjoy this very much. 

His heart leaps in his chest and he feels hot all of a sudden, embarrassed about his lack of spine. God, isn’t he a fucking wimp right now. He takes a deep, deep breath and as much as it was a mistake because the cold air hurts his lungs as if it were filled with tiny shards of ice, he needs the air, he needs the oxygen to keep on going. Now or never. 

“Akaashi!” he calls out and the whole air exits again but doesn’t make it hurt less. If anything, he feels like a deflated balloon. As Akaashi looks up though, Bokuto can’t help but grin. His heart won’t stop racing for so many reasons, one of them definitely being nervous but the most significant is being happy about seeing Akaashi again. He shuffles a few steps closer until Bokuto can see… a smile on Akaashi’s face? For a split second, before he averts his eyes and looks at his hands instead, stuffing them into his pockets quickly. 

“Hey. Sorry for asking you out like this at this---”

“Do you ever stop apologizing? It’s okay, alright! If I wouldn’t have wanted to, I would have told you. You should know me well enough by now.” His breath leaves clouds in the air and he swears they freeze for a second. What the fuck. Is that physically even possible? 

Akaashi nods and buries his face in his scarf. Hiding it, more like, Bokuto thinks but he can still see Akaashi’s nose being covered in a scarlet tone. He’s been waiting here the entire time for him. Who knows how much longer before he called. Shit, Bokuto’s mind is entirely clouded and while he has so many things to say, none of them come out. Silence definitely isn’t a thing he can handle well, it makes him feel helpless and restless. 

“So, will you come over to my place? It’s not far away from here, as you know. It’s funny, I was actually thinking that you could have just dropped by my flat because this is the way you always walk but I guess the darkness makes everything look different so you probably couldn’t tell.” He’s rambling and aware that this is almost the same as before. Only that Akaashi can’t hang up on him now but it feels like if Bokuto keeps silent for too long, something will break. 

Akaashi tenses up slightly and Bokuto is certain that if he could, he would cover his entire face with his scarf. What does he try to hide so badly? 

“I… don’t think that would be a good idea,” he eventually says, eyebrows furrowed as if he… It is a sort of expression Bokuto hasn’t seen on Akaashi before or at least not very often or he would remember. He looks… pained. “I’m sorry… I call you to pick me up but then I don’t want to go along.” A small, hollow laugh comes out of Akaashi’s throat and Bokuto feels his insides clenching. “I’m the worst, aren’t I? I just keep causing you trouble these days and---”

“You know, I never thought I’d say this to you but if you keep up like this, I’ll smack you one. And for your information, I pinched myself so hard before that it left a pretty ugly bruise. Just so you know I am strong.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest and huffs. “In fact, you shouldn’t be the one saying that. I mean, if anyone should apologize then it would be me.” He lowers his head and slips his hands back into his pockets, clenching them into fists. 

Akaashi looks up to him wearing a puzzled look but Bokuto doesn’t give him the chance to intervene. “I know this might be self-satisfaction because I don’t remember anything much but… I’m sorry for what I have said and done. I didn’t know what I was doing though I know this is not an excuse for my actions. I have tried remembering all the time but I haven’t been able to no matter how much I wracked my brain but I figured it was something that must have been really bad for you to be so angry about it…”

When Bokuto looks back up, he meets a wide-eyed Akaashi staring at him in confusion. “...Do I… seem angry to you?”

“Well, no,” Bokuto admits and shrugs his shoulders, “I mean when I am angry, I yell a lot and I get intense about everything but… I presumed you were the scary and silent type of angry where you ignore the other and bottle everything up to slowly pay it back later…”

Akaashi averts his eyes for a second and Bokuto swears on everything holy that he snorted. For real. Akaashi did and he would swear an oath on that. “...You aren’t that wrong about my anger type but… I am not angry. Not at you, at least. Only at myself.” There is the expression from before again and it makes Bokuto cringe. He hates this look on Akaashi’s face, he doesn’t want him to be hurting in any way. Never. Why would Akaashi be angry at himself? What in the world has happened? 

“I wish I could remember everything…” Bokuto whispers suddenly, it simply slipped out of his mouth. He wants to ask Akaashi. He seems to have memories left. Perhaps even everything. If what Azumane said was true, Akaashi wasn’t drunk at all. He pretended to be. But why would he? Either way, it would be a billion times better if Bokuto knew what happened. “The bits and parts my brain gathered when I was asleep and what Azumane told me is next to nothing…”

Akaashi’s gaze snaps up. “Azumane? What did he tell you?”

Bokuto raises an eyebrow in surprise. “He told me he saw us that morning together and since I didn’t remember, I asked him what happened so he said I clinged onto you a lot and…” He stops for a second to lock his eyes with Akaashi’s. He is beautiful, he always, always is. In a dim light like this, in the sunlight, in any light. But he is especially pretty when he smiles. Bokuto has always thought so. If he could, he would like to make him smile at all times. If only he could. “You looked happy, according to him.”

Akaashi opens his mouth slightly but no words come out. Instead, he breathes in the icy breeze blowing past them and sending shivers down Bokuto’s spine through his jacket. “Akaashi, were you happy?”

Bokuto hates silence. He hates suspense. He has never done well watching horror movies. Not only because they are scary but the suspense is too intense for him and he ends up blabbering too much and ruining it for everyone. Particularly now he hates it as Akaashi looks down and exhales, burying his hands deeper in his pockets. And then Bokuto sees it, face not hidden well enough to hide the smile on Akaashi’s face. But he doesn’t look happy. He looks as if in agony. “Yeah. I was,” he breathes. “I was.”

It hurts. Bokuto’s heart hammers against his chest relentlessly and it hurts, it feels like it is frozen stiff and shattered apart with every beat. “I wish it would have never ended, that evening,” and Akaashi’s voice breaks away at the end, unable to continue talking. Bokuto is left breathless and it feels a lot like what he imagines suffocating feeling like. Except there is air even though it’s icy but it’s as much of a torture. Akaashi is trembling slightly, his body tensed up as he crouches down to get out of Bokuto’s line of sight. Another void laugh comes from Akaashi. “Disgusting, isn’t it? How I used the fact that you didn’t know what you were doing, certain that you would forget just to indulge myself in my daydreams. How I lied to you, how I pretended to be drunk so I had an excuse for behaving differently. For giggling and laughing and being daring and happy because I knew otherwise you would be confused about it. You would ask and I knew I wouldn’t dare to say why.”

Akaashi covers his face with his hands and Bokuto knows why. He can tell at his voice that Akaashi has started crying and he wants to say something. Anything. But it’s at crucial points like this that he becomes absolutely useless. _Shit._ Small noises come from Akaashi’s direction. They are not even sobs, it’s a soft wailing in an attempt to stop the tears and not even the worst physical injury Bokuto had had was as painful as this. “...I was so happy, Bokuto-san. You looked like you enjoyed being with me, you kept smiling and giggling when you touched my hair and you said all those sweet things. It was like what I had always, always dreamt of. The whole evening had been a dream for me, should have been a dream but ever since, I keep thinking about it. It’s so gross, isn’t it? I keep remembering how tender you were, how you held me close and squeezed me and covered my whole face in small, small kisses and whispering how much you love this and it hurts so much. It… hurts…”

Bokuto takes a step closer to Akaashi and gets on his knees. It’s freezing and he knows he won’t be able to get up later anymore but he couldn’t care less about that at this point. He reaches out and touches his hair softly, tousling it, to which Akaashi looks up, eyes red and brows furrowed in pain. “I’m so glad I didn’t do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Bokuto says, grin spreading on his face. He would do anything to make Akaashi happy. Ever since he has known him, he hasn’t always behaved well and had often awoken Akaashi’s dismay but never with ill intent. If anything, Bokuto sometimes did things to amuse Akaashi. Lots of pranks pulled on his other teammates just to make Akaashi laugh. He never did, he usually just ended up sighing but a small grin still came on his face occasionally. That alone had been worth the hassle and reprehension. “I was scared I had done something to make you hate me.”

He cups Akaashi’s face with his hands and wipes his tears away with his thumbs, widening his grin. At least they haven’t frozen onto his skin yet. Well, his cheeks are warm enough for now. “You know, this isn’t fair. You still look good even though you’ve been bawling your eyes out. Personally, I don’t like this face one bit but you still look lovely. Physical laws, remember?”

“Bokuto-san…” His voice is wavering slightly as the look on his face softens - from strained to mildly bewildered. “Why…?”

“Why what?” His thumbs keep brushing over Akaashi’s cheeks.

“Why… are you doing this? Just when I told you what I have done… I got carried away and I might do it again so you should keep away from me…” He looks as if he is about to cry again but that makes Bokuto smile even more. He has never wanted to infect someone as badly with something than Akaashi with his smile. If Akaashi has always been the one calming him down, then he would be the one firing Akaashi up. And it wouldn’t be different now. 

“Then get carried away. Go ahead. I’m not going to stay away from you just because you tell me to. Of all people, don’t you know that I stick like glue? Worse than glue. Like… I don’t know, super glue because I am superb, obviously.” He leans his forehead against Akaashi’s whose eyes close at the touch. He is still tense though it could very well be because it is still so damn cold. Bokuto forgot about that but now that he has remembered again with a arctic gust sweeping across them, making him wince. He doesn’t know whether it is on instinct or reflex that Akaashi grabs Bokuto’s hands and squeezes them - although his hands are just as cold as the air around them. 

“But I… wasn't honest, I lied to you and I… didn’t tell you what had happened either even though I knew.”

“Like I care.” He bops Akaashi’s nose with his.

“I kept initiating kisses with you.”

“Nice, I would never resist.” Rubs his nose lightly against Akaashi’s

“I never stopped you when you hugged me.”

“I would have been offended! I’m a damn good cuddler!”

And then Bokuto sees a very different shade of red in Akaashi’s face, not induced by the temperatures but rather by what he is about to say. 

“I curled up huddling next to you after you smashed your head against the wall when trying to fall backwards onto the bed when we made out.”

“That’s--- holy shit, are you for real?”

Akaashi nods and looks apologetically. “I tried telling you, you were too close to the wall but you didn’t listen when you undressed me so... “

Bokuto feels his cheeks heating up but his grin won’t cease for some reason. “That’s so lame, wow. That’s certainly not how it should have gone.”

He hears a giggle mixed with very much air and another time, he rubs his nose against Akaashi’s, squeezing his cheeks. The temperatures might be below any sane minus degrees and his knees might already be frozen to the ground but he feels warm nonetheless. His heart feels not only healed but invulnerable. “There it is, there is your laugh! I was waiting for it! I knew I could do it! I’m the greatest after all!”

Akaashi nuzzles his cheek against Bokuto’s hand carefully, almost too much so but there is a smile on his face after all. A bit crooked but definitely not pained any longer. “Bokuto-san, don’t get ahead of yourself. It will make a future fall more painful.”

“Like the one where I hit my head against the wall?” This makes him realizes _how_ lame that was. Damn. At least he can laugh about it. Halfways. Is there anything more embarrassing than that? “I doubt there will be anything more painful than that. To my head and to my pride.”

Another giggle from Akaashi and Bokuto forgets everything about a hurt pride and a bump on his head, pressing a kiss under Akaashi’s eye gently who closed his on reflex. “Is this okay?” Bokuto whispers suddenly and earns a nod. 

And for that, Akaashi gets another kiss, under the other eye. For symmetrical reasons. And another on his cheek. And another just below the last kiss. And another. And Bokuto stops counting the amount of times he presses his lips against Akaashi’s face whose eyes are still closed yet it feels like he has relaxed completely in Bokuto’s hands. A little like he has molten under the heat and shower of kisses. Even if it’s still fucking freezing. 

His hands squeeze Bokuto’s as he opens his eyes and damn, Akaashi looks so pretty. Bokuto is sure his heart is on fire, burning up in radiant flames as he reciprocates Akaashi’s hasty blinking. For minutes entire, they simply blink repeatedly, looking into each other’s eyes, hazy by them breathing out large clouds. 

“Have you seen, Akaashi? We’re like dragons, just breathing ice instead of fire!” Bokuto says, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I’m pretty sure this isn’t ice. If anything, it would just be mist.” His voice is back to normal with a slight hint of a smile hidden under a layer of scarf. 

“That’s so cool! Kenma played this game where there were dragons called Divine Dragons and they were breathing mist too! Akaashi, we’re holy!”

He laughs, _Akaashi actually laughs_ , and Bokuto is sure this is no pretending. This is real. It feels so unreal though, as if he were dreaming but he doesn’t dare pinching himself again. Akaashi’s fingers curl around his hands tightly and Bokuto’s heart nearly leaps out of his chest. His knees and his body are close to being numb but his heart gives him the energy he needs, fueled by a heat that rushes through him and keeps him awake, _alive_ , right here in the flickering light of an old light post with a former only-friend that has become his future at 5am in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MHNGNHH IT'S OVER BYE BOKUTO BYE AKAASHI needless to say bokuto never drinks a single drop again and akaashi won't let him nor himself anymore. 
> 
> did anyone catch the reference at the ending? bokuto speaks about fire emblem, in case you didn't know, when he talks about the game kenma played and the divine dragons. what an idiot, i love bokuto. 
> 
> confession: i only wrote this for the sake of giggling and smooching bokuakas please forgive the lack of proper plot points but i hope you could still enjoy it till the end! it was fun to write and i am glad i did this project!!

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time i've written bokuakas and i have no idea why i thought this would be a good idea. probably because it is bokuto kind of one-sidedly having a crush on akaashi and being completely smitten but also unintentionally oblivious ffFF


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